


Bull In a China Shop

by Lirillith



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:56:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirillith/pseuds/Lirillith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan's idea of a date night is always quite a bit fancier than Antonio is used to, but the slinky red dress is a new twist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bull In a China Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon meme prompt. Effectively a sequel to "Taurus," especially since I suspect from some of the details that the prompter had it in mind.

Dating Nathan was... interesting. Extremely interesting. Always.

For one thing, Nathan believed in _dating._ And at least some of the time they had to be Nathan's kind of dates, so they were going to red carpet events, and restaurants where the menus didn't seem to be in English -- not that they were usually in other languages, but usually the descriptions of the food sounded more like a haiku than a meal, and he kept having to look things up on his phone to find out what he was eating -- and where he had to have Nathan order for him because he wasn't even sure how to pronounce the names half the time. And the long and short of it was Antonio now owned a tuxedo. And Nathan was starting to make it sound like he might need more than one, because apparently tuxes came in multiple types. At least Nathan was good at taking them off of him.

Tonight, all Antonio had to do was wear a suit, so it was practically a casual evening out. Or so he thought, until Nathan answered the door. 

The dress -- evening gown, this was way too fancy to be just some plain old dress -- was red, and sparkly, and slit up to nearly his hip on one side. It seemed to go up in back of his neck somehow, but the neckline went down halfway to his navel, showing off a pretty significant amount of well-defined chest. 

"What do you think?" Nathan asked, striking a pose with his hand on his outthrust hip, which meant one long, long leg was that much more visible through the slit in the skirt. Antonio looked him up and down, again -- red, sparkly stuff, a lot of it, and a lot of leg, in some kind of black stocking or hose or something, and bare arms, and then Nathan kind of twirled and, hey, even more leg (lacy tops on the stockings) and Nathan's bare back.

He swallowed hard, managed to pull his eyes up to Nathan's face -- he looked amused, but he was definitely waiting for an answer -- and tried to think of actual words. "Sparkly," he said.

"So you like it," Nathan said happily. "You're so adorable. Come on inside, I just need a minute."

_So do I,_ Antonio thought. This was all kind of a new one on him. Despite all the makeup, Nathan usually -- _usually_ \-- stayed somewhere in the range of "androgynous" or "flamboyant," without actually quite crossing the line into women's clothes. The few times he had were pretty memorable, but they'd all been before the two of them got together. In the past, Antonio had just kind of focused on the fact Nathan didn't make a very convincing woman; now he wasn't sure why he'd ever though he _needed_ to. Yeah, he had those shoulders, those arms, and turned out Antonio liked how they looked no matter what kind of clothes they were... not exactly _in,_ but next to. 

Plus, no matter what Nathan liked to say about Kotetsu, Antonio was pretty sure _Nathan_ had the longest legs in the world. Or maybe just the best. Maybe just Antonio's favorite legs. He didn't usually spend a lot of time worrying about the details.

"I got a question, babe," he called out, and Nathan emerged from the hallway, fiddling with an earring. "Since you're wearing a dress and all, do you want me to drive?"

"Don't be silly. I'm used to driving in heels, a skirt's not going to trip me up."

Of course. "Can I pay?"

"If it means that much to you..." Nathan said with a sigh. 

"Knowing the kind of places you like, maybe it shouldn't. But it's not gonna max out my credit cards. Right?" Nathan just smiled at him. "I'm sticking to my guns. I'm picking up the check this time."

Another smile. "Help me with this?" Nathan asked, and Antonio stood up to clasp the bracelet around his wrist. Which maybe didn't require standing _quite_ that close, but neither of them was complaining. 

"You smell really good," Antonio remarked. The bracelet slithered out of his grip and Nathan caught it before it hit the floor. 

"Focus first, sweetie," Nathan said, and Antonio squinted at the clasp. Success. Nathan didn't look like he'd touched up his makeup yet, so Antonio kissed him, and he must have guessed right, because Nathan kissed back. But not for too long or too deep, unfortunately, and pretty soon Nathan was pulling away. "Don't pout," he said. "Delayed gratification is the best kind."

"I dunno, I pretty much like my gratification whenever I get it," Antonio said. "And you're looking really good right now."

Nathan grinned at him, eyes crinkling up, gave him a peck on the cheek, and sashayed off. Antonio watched him leave, appreciatively; the fabric was pretty clingy, really, and Nathan's ass in motion was pretty epic. "That means you get to show me off, then."

"Nah, I can do without that."

"You're not getting out of it that easily, darling," Nathan retorted from the bedroom. "We're leaving once I do my makeup."

* * *

The restaurant was yet another new one -- Antonio didn't think they'd eaten at the same place twice since they got together -- and Antonio let Nathan negotiate all the greetings and so forth. This was his element, not Antonio's. It was hard for Antonio to get used to. He had a certain amount of celebrity status, when he was Rock Bison, and a lot more money than he'd ever expected he'd have, but he could get out of costume and be just another guy, and the money, well, he'd still just call himself comfortable even if his younger self would have called this "rich." But Nathan was in a whole other world. They sometimes got photographed by paparazzi -- bored paparazzi, Nathan would always say -- when they were out together. Chefs would come out and say hello to him at these restaurants. He never even blinked at the cost of these meals.

And he didn't think twice about going out to eat wearing a dress. None of the staff batted an eyelash at the sight of him, either; maybe he dressed like this more often than Antonio knew about. It wasn't like they'd spent every waking moment together before they started seeing each other. Some of the other guests did stare, but Antonio was staring too. Maybe they weren't all staring for the same reason he was, but if Nathan didn't care, why should he?

Antonio wasn't as freaked out by restaurants like this as he used to be. They were fancy, yeah, and expensive, and sometimes the food was more like modern art than a meal, but they were still places full of tables where people sat down and ate. He'd gotten a lot better at taking apart his plate of modern art and getting it into his mouth without feeling like a bull in a china shop, and the food was often really good even if he couldn't talk about the contrast between the whatever and the other thing like Nathan did when he was talking to the chef, or the way the something about the wine complemented the stuff with the food. He might still feel kind of ridiculous actually eating something called an amuse-bouche, like it was supposed to be entertaining his mouth, but he usually enjoyed it anyway. 

And he was hopeful that someday he'd actually be able to tell that the ridiculously expensive fancy meat was better than the regular kind, because so far, he felt kind of like an uncultured heathen on that front. It was all delicious, but these people could probably make a cheap steak from the grocery store delicious, too. But eating at places like this made Nathan happy, and he liked making Nathan happy, so he was keeping the fact that a delicious steak pretty much tasted the same anywhere to himself. He'd let it out of the bag when he'd gotten more refined. 

One of the things that did still make him uncomfortable was how hushed these places were; quiet music, quiet conversation, until he felt like he might break something if he just burst out laughing. He could keep his voice down, sure, but he kind of liked a noisy bar now and then. 

"Something on your mind?" Nathan asked, after the second course. He must have been pretty quiet.

"Just... the usual." They'd talked about it before. 

"You're doing really well, though," Nathan said. 

"I'm almost socially acceptable, huh?"

Nathan tapped him on the shin with his shoe. "You were always socially acceptable, but now you seem more comfortable."

"Well... good." 

"Dress isn't bothering you?"

Antonio shook his head. Only in the sense that it was unexpected, and sexy, and so kind of distracting; but you couldn't date a guy like Nathan and get all freaked out about him doing things that got attention. "It's not that far off how you usually dress," he said, instead. 

Another course, and they turned back to their food for the time being; Antonio had no idea what he was eating, because apparently it was unrefined to explain that a certain thing was a mammal, or a fish, or a vegetable. But it seemed to involve some kind of mushrooms, and it tasted good, and it was tiny. Nathan always insisted these things weren't _that_ small, but Antonio meant it kind of differently than Nathan seemed to think. 

"I'm just used to, you know, this steak's twelve ounces and this one's fifteen, so it's better," he tried to explain, again.

"Very Texas of you, darling," Nathan said.

Antonio shrugged. "If you say so. I've never been there."

"Does it bother you that much?"

"Nah, the food's all good," he said. "I'm even getting used to caviar. I'm just tryin' to explain where I'm coming from." He was used to one big plate with his whole meal on it. It was hard not to feel like he was eating in a foreign country with a place like this.

The entrees -- finally, _beef_ \-- arrived, and they ended up talking about action figures, discussing Rock Bison and Fire Emblem like the heroes were separate people. If anyone overheard, Antonio was just an employee at Kronos who was involved with the hero division. Nathan wasn't too pleased with the early face sculpt on Fire Emblem, and once he saw the high-res photo on Nathan's phone, Antonio was inclined to agree. 

"I don't think the mouth looks right," Antonio said. "He's kind of glaring."

"He glares a lot," Nathan protested. "It's the lips, they're the wrong shape."

"Hmmm. Maybe." But it was hard for him to envision Nathan without a smile, anymore. Yeah, he did kind of glower in one of his stock poses, but not the rest of the time. "It's obviously wrong, anyway."

"Too light-skinned, too. But that _could_ be lighting. I'd need to look at the prototype again in natural light."

"I guess that's the good part about helmets. Harder to screw them up than human faces."

"Blue Rose _hates_ hers," Nathan said. "Or so I'm told."

"Yeah, there's a lot of ways hers could go wrong," Antonio agreed. He mostly tried to stay out of Blue Rose's way when she was in a bad mood.

So many courses. He must have been looking bored, because Nathan started playing footsie with him; he'd apparently slipped out of his shoe, because there were definitely stocking-clad toes trying to get into his pants leg. Nathan seemed bound and determined to give him a foot fetish, between the high heels and the painted toenails. The conversation didn't get any livelier, but he was grinning, trying not to laugh, and Nathan kept giggling. It might have been more fun if he could have gotten barefoot too, what with Nathan being mostly bare-legged unless you counted the stockings, but he wasn't about to risk that in a swanky place like this. 

Dessert was a multi-part thing, too; one part of it seemed to involve miso, unless he'd heard that wrong. He must have heard that wrong. There was chocolate. Sweets weren't really his thing, but Nathan kept coaxing him to try things -- pieces of fruit, dark chocolate -- and he was fine with those. "Someday I'm gonna be able to scout out food for you like you do for me," Antonio said, as he was waiting for his poor, suffering credit card to return to him. 

"That'd work better if there was anything I refused to eat," Nathan said, more or less massaging Antonio's ankle with his toes. "But it's sweet of you to offer." 

Antonio shrugged. For all his grousing, he felt great now. Pleasantly full, reasonably accomplished -- he hadn't destroyed any fancy plates or sprayed part of his meal all over the tablecloth -- and looking forward to whatever Nathan had in mind for the rest of the night. "Least I could do, right? You introduce me to all this stuff, run interference with the menus, try to teach me to appreciate the finer things..."

"Aww, sweetie," Nathan said, looking a little misty-eyed. "You make it sound like you actually enjoy these places."

"Did I say I didn't?"

"I'm not dragging you here kicking and screaming?"

"You're not," Antonio said. "Not after the first time or two, anyway. I woulda said if I hated it. Besides, like you said, I get to show you off at places like this. Or be seen with you, since you're the one picking where we go." 

"Maybe I'm the one showing you off," Nathan said, withdrawing his foot -- probably to put his shoe back on -- and Antonio snorted. 

"I'm a pretty crappy excuse for a trophy guy," he said.

"I guess I just have to settle for a real boyfriend, if that's how you're going to be," Nathan said with a sigh. The waiter came back with Antonio's card, then, and they started the process of leaving, with managers and people from the kitchen coming out to speak to Nathan. He wondered whether they'd eventually hit a restaurant where Nathan wasn't known, or if they'd loop around to the beginning instead.

* * *

For all Nathan's loftiness about delaying gratification, he goosed Antonio while they were waiting for the parking attendant to bring the car around, and Antonio only kept it to a muted yelp because he'd been halfway expecting it. He grabbed Nathan's wrist, hoping it looked like they were holding hands rather than grappling. "You're walkin' in front once we get back to your place," he muttered. Nathan pouted at him, but then the valet pulled up in the car, and Nathan had to take custody of his baby. 

No sooner did they get on the freeway, though, than Nathan was feeling up his thigh. "What happened to delayed gratification?" Antonio asked. Not that he actually minded.

"It's still delayed."

"So now gratification's a fancy word for ejaculating?"

Nathan smirked. "Fancy? They have the same number of syllables."

"You didn't deny it." He loosened his tie.

"Why would I do that?"

"Okay, so HEY," and Antonio's train of thought was disrupted by the need to get Nathan's hand away from his junk. 

"You ruin all my fun."

"This is a family freeway! There are probably kids in some of those cars!"

"It's dark! No one can see."

"It's not that dark. I'm a fan of delayed gratification now. Hands off the merchandise."

Nathan gave him an exaggerated pout. It was impossible to keep a steely scowl when looking at that, and when he started laughing Nathan cracked up too. He caught his breath, leaning back in the car seat. "You have the most amazing smile," he said, looking at Nathan.

"Even though I'm an incorrigible pervert?" Antonio put his hand on Nathan's leg. "And not the only one in this car."

"Hey, I have some self-control. I can just grope you and leave it at that. _You_ are a penis-seeking missile." Hell, he still hadn't even figured out where the slit on that skirt was. The dress fabric was rough to the touch, textured, but then, it was sparkly, so that wasn't surprising.

"I wanted to use that as my tagline on Hero TV, but I got overruled."

"I know you're just making this up on the spot, but it's so plausible..." There was the edge of the skirt; it was lined with satin. Not that he'd expected Nathan to be wearing a hair shirt or anything. "We're heading for the penthouse?" he asked, recognizing the route.

"You had something else in mind? It's where you left your car."

"If you absolutely had to molest me in the car, those roads up in the hills on the way to the mansion would be a better place to do it. Where we aren't at risk of giving anyone who passes us a show." Nathan's leg was all silky stocking and solid muscle, and Antonio was thinking about travel times now. 

"Sweetie. Who ever passes _me?_ You worry too much."

"Okay, whoever we pass, then. And one of us needs to..."

"A little more thought and a little less worrying. Did you really think I was going to give you a full-fledged handjob while I was driving?" 

"You're pretty good at getting me to agree to things."

"And I can disintegrate your pants with my mind, of course. While shifting gears with my third arm."

Antonio started laughing. "An invisible one?" His thumb slid over the stockings, rubbed against warm skin, and Antonio felt Nathan shift a little in his seat. 

"Mm-hmmm," Nathan practically purred, and the sound went right to Antonio's cock. 

"You liked that, huh?" 

Nathan lifted his hand, kissed it, and put it back on his own lap. "You know it. Remember that one for later."

* * *

They kept their hands more or less to themselves for the rest of the drive. More or less. The less part was the reason they started kissing, progressing pretty rapidly to making out, while waiting for the elevator, not even really stopping when the doors opened and let out a group of three. Inside the car, they pretty much pounced on each other as soon as the doors closed. Antonio had one leg hooked around Nathan's and a hand up Nathan's skirt, stroking that spot just north of the stockings; Nathan's mouth was on his neck and Nathan's hands were... somewhere. Not on his ass, for once. Antonio gave up on trying to figure out how to undo the halter-neck thing one-handed and just worked a hand inside the top of the dress to rub Nathan's nipple. Nathan curled into his neck and moaned, and Antonio kissed his shoulder, keeping it up; it was only a few seconds before Nathan was moving again, doing things to Antonio's ear, his throat, his upper chest, that he could never get Nathan to let him do back.

When the elevator came to a hushed stop and they pulled apart, he discovered that Nathan had undone his belt and halfway unbuttoned his shirt. "Damn, you're good," he said, completely unnecessarily, as they stepped out. 

Nathan smoothed the dress back into place, and Antonio took another appreciative look; the slinky lines of the dress made Nathan's hard-on abundantly clear. Being with Nathan was just an endless parade of discovering that things he'd never thought were hot before were now hot, so it almost wasn't a surprise how the sight got to him. "Shall we?" Nathan asked, after letting him get a good eyeful.

"Thought you'd never ask," he said, just for the bright smile he always got when he played along, and he shrugged out of his suit jacket as Nathan let them both in. He threw it and his tie carelessly onto a chair, took off his shoes and socks while Nathan was rearranging the jacket, and shed his shirt as he was following Nathan into the bedroom. He couldn't actually describe Nathan's ass in motion in that dress -- he'd once heard someone use the term "two cats fighting in a bag," but he thought it'd been in a bad way, and there was absolutely nothing bad about this. 

"I could watch that for hours," he said, stepping out of his pants and underwear. "You're still pretty... dressed, though."

"The nice thing about skirts..." Nathan said, hitching his up a bit, and doing something that seemed kind of mysterious until he stepped out of some tiny pink thing that Antonio recognized as Nathan's idea of underwear. "You don't have to take them off."

"Ahhh," Antonio said, suddenly understanding. That explained the mirror he'd moved since the last time, too. 

"You've slept with women, you should know this," Nathan chided. 

"I can't always apply that to you, y'know." Antonio pushed the covers down, because even though Nathan's favorite color was no secret, the sheets were always a surprise. This time they were silk, and kind of a coral color -- he was getting way better with different shades of pink lately. Then he straightened up and looked at Nathan. "No ass grab? You feeling okay?"

"Just admiring," Nathan said. "Don't worry, baby," he continued, stepping closer. "It's still perfect." The expected squeeze came on the last word, and Antonio leaned back into Nathan's chest, turning his head for a kiss, with intent this time, open-mouthed and hungry. He reached up to cup the back of Nathan's head, then he felt a hand encircle his shaft, and his breathing hitched and quickened, his whole body turning its attention to how it felt right there. He pressed his hips back against Nathan, rubbing against his erection until it was pressed to the cleft of his ass. 

"Subtle," Nathan said, sounding amused, lips against the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I try," he replied, reaching behind himself to grope at Nathan's legs. Nathan's right hand was still stroking his cock, frustratingly slowly.

"You want to make a night of it?" Nathan asked, dragging his thumb over the slit for emphasis. Antonio closed his eyes and groaned. 

"You're evil," he said. "Kinda, but I have a morning appearance, remember?"

"Aww. That's right, I forgot. You want to get on the bed, then?"

He didn't need to be asked twice. He climbed onto the mattress and got onto all fours, positioned so he could actually see the mirror. The mattress creaked as Nathan climbed onto it. Antonio couldn't decide whether to look over his shoulder, under his arm, or at the mirror to watch Nathan's preparations. He'd been with guys before Nathan, but he hadn't fucked very many of them; it was mostly blowjobs, jacking each other off, the kind of thing he sometimes left out of the definition of sleeping with someone. Being with Nathan was different. He and Nathan fucked, they probably even made love, though that just wasn't his kind of phrase; most often _Nathan_ fucked _him,_ and he hoped Nathan had some idea that last part meant something extra, because he doubted he'd ever explain it. Not like that. 

Nathan's hand stroking his back pulled him from his thoughts. "You feeling ready, baby?" Nathan asked gently. 

"Yeah," he said, and Nathan kissed the small of his back. Antonio watched in the mirror as Nathan hiked the skirt over his hips and positioned himself, and felt the pressure and the slight burn of his entry. He liked that. He liked all of it, the sting, the stretch, the sight of Nathan in his evening gown in the mirror, the feel and the sight of Nathan's hands on his back and sides, the rhythm of Nathan's thrusts, gradually getting faster and harder. And then Nathan found the spot -- his prostate, he'd never been any good at science -- and he grunted and buried his face in the mattress. Nathan was thrusting hard now, his breathing fast and ragged, and he bent over Antonio's back; Antonio could feel his lips, his breath, and he shifted his weight to one arm so he could reach up to touch, run a hand over Nathan's hair, the back of his neck. 

Their lips caught in a brief kiss, both breathing too hard to put more into it. Nathan's hands were on his chest, his stomach, Nathan was all he could feel, except for his own hand wrapping around his cock. He looked at the mirror, again, at Nathan wrapped around him, on top of him, the dress spread out behind him. He tried not to look at himself, not wanting to get self-conscious, get knocked out of the moment, because God he was close, and then Nathan murmured "let me." Nathan's hand wrapped around his shaft, worked the full length of it and then, with a flourish at the head Antonio could never do for himself, back down again; he almost whimpered, trying to press his hips forward into Nathan's hand and back onto his cock at the same time. But Antonio could feel from the way Nathan's thrusts had slowed that he'd either finished or was riding out the last of it. 

After a moment, Nathan sat back, pulling Antonio with him, Antonio's back pressed against Nathan's warm, solid chest. Nathan stretched his stocking-clad legs out on either side of Antonio, and turned his full attention to Antonio's cock. Antonio grabbed one of Nathan's hands, lacing their fingers together, because he just needed to hang on; he was close, and with Nathan's full attention on him, Nathan's talented hand around him, it only took a few more strokes before he let go, moaning something unintelligible even to him. 

"See? Some things are worth waiting for," Nathan murmured, kissing his shoulder. 

"Guh," Antonio agreed, sagging back against him.

* * *

"It's your turn next week," Nathan said, slipping back into bed next to him. He'd taken off the stockings and jewelry along with the dress, which was kind of a shame, but just as well -- Antonio was feeling pretty sleepy.

"We're taking turns?" 

"Picking restaurants," Nathan said. "But if you want to top..."

"Nah. I don't think I'd look as good as you did in that dress." He stretched out an arm, and Nathan snuggled up to his side, head on his shoulder.

"You know, now that you've said that, I kind of want to see it," Nathan said. "But it'd call for some alterations."

Antonio tried to envision it. "No," he said, finally. "You really don't." 

"I dunno..." Nathan was playing with Antonio's chest hair. "It might at least be funny."

"C'mon, there's other ways I can make you laugh without ruining my memory of-- I should've taken a picture of you in that outfit."

"Already covered," Nathan said. "Blue Rose wanted to see it. Not for the same reasons, I'm sure. I'll send it to you in the morning." 

Antonio pulled him closer, pressing his lips against close-cropped pink hair. "I love you," he said.


End file.
